


Here Be Dragons

by dragonlover



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Gen, Velociraptors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonlover/pseuds/dragonlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the Jurassic World incident, InGen becomes aware of an old mess left unattended: raptors on the mainland. They send a team of specialists to deal with the problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Three men crashed loudly through the bushes. They had extinguished their flashlights. The cops had been on their tails for miles and were only deterred at last by the rough terrain of the dense jungle they ran through. The cops were gone for now, but Paco Guerrero knew they would come back with helicopters and rangers who knew the area.

“This plan of yours better work,” Paco growled at their guide, a rookie named Rafe Tierno.

Paco typically wouldn’t trust someone that green with this much responsibility, but he didn’t have much of a choice. His usual guide broke her leg a week before the job went down, and Paco was forced to recruit local talent. Angel Eva swore the guy was the best in the region. It was true he got them put of the city easy enough, but this trek into the jungle worried him.

“Don’t worry,” Rafe said, doing nothing to alleviate Paco’s concerns. “My uncle used to work for a cartel running drugs through here, back in the ‘90s. He doesn’t know why they left, but they left quick and didn’t take anything down. It should all still be here.”

‘Should.’ Paco sighed. They were basing everything on a ‘should.’

In truth, Paco had a bad feeling about this job from the start. The mark was a bit more upscale than his usual work. So was the client, for that matter. It was the clearest warning a man could have, but the money being offered was too good for him to turn down. Money like that, he could retire, finally get some time to spend with his family. Though he had no romance in his life, his brother married an accountant, and the two of them were raising a fine pair of boys. He smiled as he thought of his nephews grinning when they saw Uncle Paco with his gifts.

The smile vanished off his face when he remembered he was not with his nephews and was, in fact, trudging through the damp underbrush. No, this was a bad idea.

“Don’t worry,” Rafe insisted, the cocky fool.

An animal of some sort hooted. Animals had been making a racket since they entered, but this one sounded different. Paco couldn’t place it in his head. It wasn’t exactly surprising. The jungles had a ton of different animal species with more being discovered all the time. This hoot stood out, however. It was like a sharp cough that echoed through the trees, and it left an eerie chill in his bones.

“What is that?” Fidel Marta asked. He was the one tasked with carrying the package, and he took the opportunity to shift his backpack and stretch his back.

“Hell if I know,” Rafe said. He paused to look around at the surrounding treetops. “There are a lot of exotic animals around.”

“Well, let’s just…” Fidel began. Paco never found out what he thought they should do. Fidel stepped on an unstable stretch of shrubbery and fell. There was a dramatic incline hidden by the vegetation. Fidel slid down several feet and fell off a ridge to clatter down in a heap to the ground below.

“Shit!” Paco was alarmed. Was the package intact? Would Fidel be unable to carry it? Did the noise give away their position? Of course, he also was concerned about his colleague’s health, but this was a serious job they were working, and he had his priorities.

Paco and Rafe carefully made their way down the hill, finding more stable terrain. Once safely on the ground, they made their way to their fallen teammate.

“Hey, you okay, buddy?” Paco knelt to examine Fidel.

“Oh, my back!” Fidel groaned. Wincing, he moved a hand to touch it but just hit his backpack.

“Is… is the package okay?’ Fortunately, it was Rafe to broach the awkward subject. Paco didn’t have to be the one to look like a jerk.

“No clue,” Fidel said with effort. “The thing was wrapped up in foam. It might be okay.”

“If it’s not, the client will just have to accept it anyway,” Rafe said quickly. “We did our best, and it’s not like there’s any other of its kind out there to take instead.”

Paco offered Fidel a hand and helped him up. As he did, he analyzed Fidel’s physical ability. He seemed like he could walk, but the backpack would slow him down considerably. “I better take it for now.”

Fidel took off the backpack and handed it to Paco. Paco opened it and turned on his flashlight to take a look at the bundle containing the package. It seemed to be in one piece, and the bubble wrap still had most of the bubbles intact. Without opening it up to inspect it, it looked okay. He zipped up the bag and slung it up on his back. The energy in the group visibly improved with his silent judgment.

“Thanks, man.” Fidel sighed.

“Can you walk?” Paco asked.

“Yeah… Yeah… I’m good.” Fidel stumbled a bit and had a visible limp, but he seemed determined.

Paco sized him up. It looked like Fidel had the ability to keep up. If the cops came and things looked bad, Paco might have to cut him loose.

“Look!” Rafe pointed to a small path leading through the bushes. It wasn’t much larger than a foot across, but it was clearly dug out by human hands.

“Finally.” Paco grumbled. They could at last make their way through the dense jungle and get this damn job over with.

“Looks like things are looking up!” Rafe exclaimed.

The hooting came again, this time accompanied by chips and whistles. Either the animal was following them or there were multiple. The sound reminded Paco of parrot chatter. Maybe there was some kind of nighttime bird mating going on. He wasn’t looking forward to listening to much more of that. It wasn’t annoying, but there was something vaguely unnerving about it that he couldn’t put his finger on.

Rafe led them into the path. Paco followed Rafe, and Fidel took up the rear. They hustled down the path, heading deeper into the dark jungle. The path was small, with encroaching bushes making the space claustrophobic. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it was a hell of a lot better than wandering aimlessly.

“Whoa, what was that?” Fidel turned around and back. “Did you _see_ that?”

“See what?” Paco looked around but saw nothing but the surrounding bushes.

“There was something big. It just ran past right behind me!” Fidel was getting panicked.

“How big?” Paco demanded. “Like a cougar?”

Costa Rica was home to a lot of dangerous wildlife. Despite its reputation for exotic animals, the common cougar was one of the worst threats to people. 

“Shit.” Fidel looked back and forth. “I don’t know, man.”

It could have been a cougar. Paco cursed rapidly under his breath. He still had to keep his eyes on the prize, but he needed to make sure he lived long enough to see the job through. To do that, he had to break one of his rules.

“Guns out,” he ordered. He didn’t want to fire. Even in the middle of this expansive jungle, the boom of gunfire could signal their location to their pursuers. If they were in fact being stalked by a deadly predator, however, they didn’t have much choice.

Pulling out their pistols, they turned to face the section of jungle into which Fidel insisted the shape had vanished. It was just a guess that the beast still was there. For all they knew, it had disappeared into the depths of the jungle, leaving them far behind. Paco couldn’t help but imagine the creature instead circling around them to stalk them still. If not for this excited bit of paranoia on Paco’s part, he might never have noticed the subtle hissing coming from the bushes to his left.

He acted on gut instinct. Exhaling, he clicked off the safety, turned left, aimed toward the sound, and squeezed the trigger. The gun produced a deafening rapping sound, comparable to striking a steel beam with a cudgel. To fire without safety equipment was hell on his ears, and for a moment, all he could hear was high-pitched ringing. A high-pitched animal shriek of a terrifying nature followed soon after.

Something slammed into Paco’s back. He was knocked off his feet and crashed down on his chest. His gun flew out of his hands.

Fidel screamed. Paco turned his head to see him struggling on the ground with something on top of him, some kind of animal. It wasn’t a cougar; that was for damn sure. It was dark green, striped, with a thin tail that waved back and forth in the air as its muzzle tore chunks of flesh out of Fidel’s body.

It took Paco a second to realize with horror that another of the same animal must be on top of him too. He felt it shifting its weight as it stood on top of his backpack. The sound of canvas ripping prompted an image of a similar dark green muzzle buried in his backpack. For now, the attack was absorbed by the backpack, but it was only a matter of time before it redirected its attentions.

The familiar rapping sound of gunfire filled the air, and the animal fell from its perch on Paco’s back. Paco was saved by Rafe’s quick action. He glanced up to regard with great respect the sight of his teammate clutching the pistol and glaring at the creatures and then looked to where the shot animal had fallen. Paco could just make out the sight of a nightmarish reptile with huge claws and a mouth full of pointed teeth before his attention was stolen by Rafe firing again.

Paco looked where Rafe fired and saw the animal on Fidel stumble. Rafe continued to fire, and the animal fell. It was too late to save Fidel. The man was nothing more than a bloody mess.

Paco turned his gaze back on Rafe and saw a reptile head looming up behind him from the trees. “Look out!”

Rafe swiveled around. He raised his gun but was too slow. The creature leaped on top of him. Rafe fired into its chest, but its leg lanced down and sliced him open with its large claw. Paco saw his intestines slide out.

Paco stumbled to his feet and took off running. Leaves and tree trunks slammed into him, but he wouldn’t let that slow him down. He didn’t know which way to go. He just started running. Anywhere was better than staying put.

He emerged from the dense trees into a small glade. He came to a halt. It wasn’t empty. Heads looked up and turned in his direction. More of the animals. Dozens of them. They chirped curiously, and he recognized the sound from before. What the fuck were they?

The bushes rustled behind him. He turned around and saw the beast that killed Rafe emerge. Its body was slick with his dark blood. It pulled back its lips and hissed.

Paco opened his mouth to scream.


	2. InGen, the Great and Terrible

To say Owen Grady was pissed off was putting it mildly. He was preparing to propose to Claire. The ring was in his pocket. He planned a romantic evening at a fancy French restaurant. They would watch swans glide across a pool covered with water lilies as the sun set. When the group of violinists emerged, he would pull out the polished amber ring and pop the question. Unfortunately, that never happened.

Before the sun even set, well before the violinists emerged, a group of combat-booted muscle heads showed up in their place. Wearing uniforms bearing the branding of InGen Security, the men had the gall to demand he come with them on some highly classified detour on behalf of Masrani. Worse, Claire thought he should go. Fuming, he let them lead him to a car and signed their non-disclosure agreements.

The InGen boys drove him to a fancy hotel and escorted him to the penthouse suite. He entered, expecting to be greeted by their superior, but he found the suite empty. It was beautiful, with a wide black coffee table, long white couches with red pillows, and a long black dining table that sat across from a wall-sized flat screen TV. It was also filled with gifts. Baskets of hard liquor sat everywhere. If Owen was a man of a more refined taste, he surely would recognize it as a particularly expensive variety. Bowls of chocolates covered the coffee table, and the dining table had baskets containing jellies, coffee, cigars, and nuts. But no people.

The chocolate aroma filled the air. It made his mouth water. He picked up a piece and studied it. He twirled it around in his fingers. After a moment’s consideration, he set it back down in the bowl.

This was a power play. Whoever was pulling these strings wanted him to know damn well that they were in charge. These gifts were to make him drop his guard, to make him feel comfortable with being in their service, and their distance from him was to put him in his place. He knew that trick very well.

“Do I look like a velociraptor to you?” Owen asked aloud to the empty room.

“An interesting question,” replied a disembodied voice. It was a man’s voice, British, with a characteristically slow tempo that spoke to advanced aging. “Do you think you bare a resemblance to your favorite theropod, Mr. Grady?”

Owen looked around for the voice’s source but found no one.

The TV clicked on. Instead of getting to catch up on his episodes of _Parks and Recreation_ , the screen displayed the visage of a pale, balding man with a stern countenance.

Of course. It was Owen’s mysterious host. Not satisfied with setting up the power play of the room, he presumably had been watching Owen from hidden cameras from the instant he set foot in there. This entire reveal had been engineered to intimidate him. For some reason, the guy really wanted Owen off his guard.

Owen chuckled. “Honestly, if anyone here looks like a dinosaur, it’s you, Mister…?”

The man was not amused. “Wiesner,” he snapped. “Richard Wiesner, acting CEO of Masrani Global.”

Wiesner’s self-identification was obviously supposed to make Owen humble. It was like they didn’t know him at all.

Owen smiled to himself. “Listen, Richard… Can I call you Richard? Rick. Ricky. This is not the way you make friends with someone!”

The big white head glared at him.

Owen spread his hands. “Ricky, my man, you’ve been trying to keep me off guard this entire evening. You’re using a combination of carrot and stick that would offend any animal handler in its laziness and offends me personally because it’s saying we can’t be friends. You corporate people, you see only assets to be controlled.”

He lowered his hands and narrowed his eyes at the head. “Let’s get something straight here. You need me. I got something you want, and instead of asking for it politely, you want to scare me with this Great and Terrible Oz shit so I just give it to you freely. Not happening, bucko. Not. Happening.”

Wiesner cleared his throat. “Mr. Grady…”

“So, here’s what’s going to happen,” Owen interrupted. Sitting down at the table, he grabbed one of the nuts and popped it in his mouth. No longer was it submission. He had the ball in his court. “You’re going to tell me exactly what you need, and I’m going to tell you what you’re going to pay for it.”

The head was silent for a moment. Its eyes narrowed, and Owen saw something that looked like respect. “Tell me, Mr. Grady, have you ever considered a career in business?”

Owen grinned. “Nope! At least with raptors, it’s not just one big power game.”

“I find that hard to believe, Mr. Grady,” the head said. “It is in fact your affinity with the raptors that makes you of value to me.”

This caught Owen’s attention. Finally, they could get down to business, as it were. “And just what do you need with a man who trains raptors?”

Wiesner sighed. He let go of his stony game face and looked more like a weary old man. “To clean up a mess that InGen should have taken responsibility for long ago.”

“Yeah?” Owen let some of his aggression fade as well. As annoyed as he was, he didn’t want this to be one big power struggle, so he would take Wiesner’s cue to back off from the conflict and pretend to be friends. “And what mess would that be?”

Wiesner took a deep breath. “You are familiar with the lysine contingency?”

Owen raised an eyebrow. “Hammond’s last resort option, programmed into the genetic code of his dinosaurs. If the animals turned out impossible to control, InGen could withhold lysine supplements and let the animals die. It didn’t work. Site B showed herbivores would eat lysine-rich plant life and carnivores would absorb lysine when they ate the herbivores.”

“A full ecosystem, yes.” Wiesner nodded. “And would you ever suppose that a group of carnivorous dinosaurs could survive on their own, without dinosaurs consuming lysine-rich plants to consume?”

Owen had a bad feeling about where this was headed. “Suppose? No, I wouldn’t suppose… but I would probably want to verify, even if I did suppose.”

Wiesner rubbed his forehead. “And that, Mr. Grady, is where your foresight exceeds our own.”

“Level with me here,” Owen said. “Exactly what are we talking about?”

In all likelihood, there was no camera situated directly in the display screen. It was probably off to the side. Wiesner was probably looking at the side of Owen’s head. Likewise, Wiesner probably didn’t have a camera in his own screen and probably looked away from his view of Owen to look into the camera. Nevertheless, Wiesner appeared to look him dead in the eye as he spoke. “Velociraptors. Loose. In the jungles of Costa Rica.”

It was a while before Owen reacted. He wanted to think it was a joke. Like maybe this whole thing was an elaborate practical joke and in a second, Ashton Kutcher would come out from behind a couch to tell him he’d been punk’d. But the seconds ticked by, and the talking head continued to gaze at him solemnly, and he came to understand that everything was real.

“What the fuck.” He wasn’t even sure he was talking at first. “What the ever loving fuck! Goddamn! How could you ever let that happen?”

He stood up so suddenly that the chair flew backwards. It collided with liquor baskets in a tremendous crash. Amber-colored liquid flowed out, covering the floor in a thin sheet. He didn’t even care about the waste, so powerful was his anger.

“Raptors on the mainland? Loose? Without _any_ form of training?” He shook his head. They’d really done it this time. “I’m at a loss for words. Really, I am.”

“I understand your frustration, Mr. Grady, but please try to control yourself,” Wiesner said in an infuriatingly calm voice. “What’s done is done. The error was made a long time ago, well before my administration. Your conflict is with Hammond, and he died years ago. The only thing that you can do is help me correct his mistake.”

He put a hand over his mouth. This wasn’t the time to patch a minor mistake before no one noticed. This was a time to evacuate the country. Something strange about what Wiesner seemed to be telling him, though, was Wiesner’s emphasis on this being a very old problem. “How old? When did Hammond fuck this up so royally?”

“1993,” Wiesner answered. “It was part of the original Jurassic Park catastrophe. You see, the sequential hermaphroditism that was a side effect of the amphibian hybridization resulted in velociraptors breeding without authorization. Hammond only expected there to be three raptors, so his guests believed they observed all existing raptors, and no one thought to watch for more of them. It turned out that a group of the animals escaped the island on a supply ship and made their way easterly through Costa Rica. Infant deaths and damages to property attributable to the animals were recorded, but they diminished in a way consistent with the animals’ demise due to the lysine contingency, so InGen never followed up on it. New evidence has emerged, however, to suggest that living animals found a way around the contingency and have been coexisting with natural rainforest life these past several years.”

“Jesus.”

The sheer arrogance of the corporate types never failed to astonish Owen. InGen created an incredibly powerful, deadly creature, beautiful in its own way, but extremely dangerous to human life, and they consistently failed to respect it. Letting raptors breed was an awful mistake but excusable as human error. It sounded like InGen _knew_ raptors had escaped and _chose_ to keep it hushed up for the sake of public perception. They _knew_ there were deaths and yet still refused to go public, relying on a contingency plan known to take time to come into effect and that ultimately still seemed to be ineffective. Now there were raptors loose on the mainland.

One part of that intrigued him, however. Peaceful coexistence? Was that implied by Wiesner’s statement? That the raptors initially caused deaths but found a way around it, peacefully coexisting with natural rainforest life? Maybe Wiesner didn’t see it himself, but Owen seized upon that possibility. Maybe there was hope for raptors after all.

“What changed?” Owen asked finally. “I’m guessing the raptors attacked somebody, and that’s how you found out about it?”

“Indeed, Mr. Grady.” Wiesner sounded pleased with his deductions. “We are now approaching the reason why I have summoned you today.”

The TV screen minimized the video feed of Wiesner, relegating him to the corner. The majority of the screen was taken up by… Well, it looked like the sort of thing a single woman might keep buried in her sock drawer.

“This is a three-thousand-year-old Mesoamerican archeological artifact,” Wiesner described. “Carved from pure obsidian, this representation of a water spirit was prayed to for bountiful fishing. In today’s black market, it is worth over two billion dollars. Six months ago, it was stolen from a museum in San Jose, Costa Rica. The thieves were last seen ducking into the Tortuguero, a large protected rainforest area, in order to make their way into Nicaragua, where it was believed they escaped. Two weeks ago, a group of treasure hunters came to the conclusion that the thieves never made out of that rainforest alive, and they too never came out alive. The official story is that they met up with drug cartels, but InGen analysts uncovered the true killers.”

The image of the, uh, artifact disappeared. It was replaced by a fluctuating sound wave as a man yelled in rapid fire Spanish, gunfire overheard in the background. Owen wasn’t fluent in Spanish, but he understood enough to know that the man was calling for help. The audio clip was replaced with the touched up version. This time, the man sounded muffled, like he was in the background, and background sounds were brought to the forefront. Nestled among the gunfire was a familiar animal shriek.

Owen’s fist hit the table. “Velociraptor.”

Wiesner’s face returned to prominence in the screen, with the, uh, artifact and sound waves as minimized images below him. “There are two problems, Mr. Grady: The people looking for the artifact and the raptors. I need a team leader who can take on both. I need someone to recover the artifact as quickly as possible to keep the area from swarming with wannabe treasure hunters, and I need somebody with the knowledge and ability to study, capture, contain and if necessary kill a breeding population of Jurassic Park raptors. Now, tell me, Mr. Grady, what is your demanded price?”


	3. Philosoraptor

Blue was alone.

She was always alone now. Ever since her pack…

Her wounds ached. Not wounds on her body, but wounds in her mind.

Her subordinates died. Her alpha left her. Her wounds were not new but still ached. They had not healed, no.

It was not all bad. She was free. She was free.

There were no more walls to restrict her movement. There were no more restraints put on her body. She was free to move around. She could explore all of what this island had to offer. She could feel the wind on her scales and run and play and Hunt and be free.

It was quiet. She didn't talk anymore. There was no one to talk to.

Perhaps that absence was the reason for why she now seemed to have so many voices in her head. Her thoughts were usually straightforward, but these days her head was full of conflict. Her thoughts ran around and around, and she tried not to think at all.

She cocked her head. She could hear a stream in the distance and a scurrying that meant a small little prey animal. Good eating! But she was not hungry.

She ran through the forest. She let the cool leaves brush against her scales. It was nice. (She wished she could do it with her friends.)

That was another disjointed thought. She didn't like them. She pushed the voices inside and sprinted through the forest in search of distraction.

Another living body was near. One not like her. It was taller and had a curved crest on its head. It squawked when it caught her scent and ran back to its herd.

Hunt? Hunt?

No. Blue still wasn't hungry.

It was important to only Hunt when she was hungry. Alpha taught her that. The Other Alpha was wrong because she didn't see that truth that Blue's real alpha knew well. Other Alpha was… was… wasteful.

Yes, that was it. There was more to it. (Other Alpha was what?) Blue knew there was something else there, and it sat like an itching against her head. She scraped a claw against her forehead, but it didn't help. The itch was… was… somewhere else.

Yes! Yes! Somewhere else! But where…?

(Need to know… Need to know…)

She snorted. It was meaningless to focus on such things. They weren't real. She could feel the sun on her skin and the soil beneath her feet. That was real.

She could also hear now a faint rumbling in the distance. She wondered if it were the Tall One, the one she worked with to fight the Other Alpha. Tall One frequently made the ground shake when she walked, and her roars were equally impressive. Blue hadn't interacted with Tall One much since their fight together, but their relationship was without conflict. (Maybe they could Hunt together?)

Wrong. (Bad?) It wasn't Tall One. Tall One rumbled with her footsteps and her roars, but those came to an end quickly, even if they soon started up again. This rumbling was different. It kept going. (That would be the…?)

Oh.

Oh.

The hairless apes were back. She recognized the sound. It was one of their hard, strong means of transportation. Those things rumbled continuously. (Not always, but when they were ready to move.) She didn't really understand them, but she knew their characteristics.

The hairless apes. Alpha called them "humans." Blue couldn't pronounce the strange syllables. It was that sort of chatter only humans made.

Humans.

Humans… were…

Prey.

Prey?

Prey.

Prey.

Prey.

Except… Well…

There was the matter of…

Them. The ones that were like prey but also like her in the sense that they were things that deserved to live. Alpha. (Alpha abandoned her.) And Alpha's not-like-her subordinates.

It was confusing. Very confusing. Blue didn't like being confused. She preferred simpler ideas. Run. Hunt. Eat. Play. Mate. Not this… this… (Complexity?)

She hurried away from the humans. Humans were confusing. And she still wasn't hungry.

There were things that she could do besides Hunt. (She would prefer have others like her to not-Hunt with.)

She chose to walk through the old structures humans set up long ago. Humans had abandoned them, and they now belonged to the jungle. Many other animals had found homes in them.

After her trek to the structures, Blue found she was now hungry.

Hunt!

She charged after a small prey animal. It tried to run lose her by running back and forth, but she was too fast for it. (And smarter.)

She caught it with her claws. She dipped her head down and bit through its neck. At the same time, she lifted her foot and sliced it open. FOOD. FOOD. FOOD.

She devoured her prey. She was a good hunter. This was her victory spoils. (She wished she had a pack to offer the rougher bits to. As Beta, she was afforded the best.)

A whistle pierced the air.

Was that…?

She raised her head, listening. Was that…? Could it have been…?

One like her?

She needed to be careful. Other Alpha sounded like her but was not. Or was bad. (Bad?) Either way, bad for Blue.

The whistle came again.

Blue was excited. Even with the risk, the possibility of meeting one like her was so, so appealing! She chirped, hoping the one like her would hear and respond.

When no response came, she went out in search of the whistler. Once in the open air, she sniffed but smelled no other one like her. They were downwind from her. She moved forward, continuing in the direction of the sound.

Another whistle sounded. Part of her thought it sounded strange. (Too simple?) But she was so delighted to hear what sounded like one like her that she rushed toward its source all the same.

She emerged from the trees into a clearing and saw…

She held position and just stared for a moment.

Alpha was there. Alpha. Alpha!

Alpha and his subordinate, the darker-colored (human) version of Alpha (not-prey). He was subordinate to Alpha, who was the true Alpha, but he was still superior to Blue, though not like her. (Human.)

Behind them stood a pack of humans (prey), tense, clutching the shiny tubes they used to hurt. Hunt? No, not with Alpha in front. Not with Alpha and his subordinate raising their hands in dominance.

"Hey, Blue," Alpha greeted her. He said more, but it was incomprehensible human chatter. What mattered was the way he said it. Respectful. Sympathetic. Said with heartfelt appreciation.

Yes, Blue missed him too. She said as much, in the chirps and whistles that were understood by her pack. Her sisters now dead, that group included only her and Alpha. (Less so by Alpha.)

Alpha's human subordinate started singing softly to her. The words were meaningless but the tone was soothing. She liked that. She chirped her appreciation.

Alpha slowly walked toward her. Something dangled from his hand. Shiny. Stiff. A muzzle.

Blue squawked indignantly. Did he think she wanted that? She wanted a nice reunion with Alpha, not to have her face mashed into a small container where she couldn't even open her mouth!

"Easy, easy," Alpha soothed. He spoke quietly to her. Blue only understood a few words, but between his tone and the context, she understood. He wanted her to go with him, to be his Beta again, but he needed her to wear the muzzle.

Blue wanted to go with Alpha. She missed him terribly. But she didn't want to confine herself either.

If she left Alpha, she would be free. She would never have to wear a muzzle again. She would dominate all she cared to dominate. But she wouldn't have her pack either.

She turned around and looked at the jungle, considering. She remembered what it was like to be free. Oh, yes, to be free! She opened her mouth, stretching, enjoying the sensation of being able to open her mouth.

Prey-humans were alarmed. They raised their shiny tubes, ready to hurt Blue… because they thought she would eat them?

Their fear amused her greatly. She snarled at them and watched them panic. She was certain she could Hunt them successfully if she wanted, even with Alpha claiming them, but she wouldn't go against Alpha. (Would she?)

No.

"Stop it, Blue!" Alpha raised his hands to make him look bigger and more imposing.

Alpha's tone cut through her aggression, and she lowered her head in submission. She didn't want to go against Alpha. She liked being his Beta. Freedom wasn't worth being without him and alone. Stretching her neck forward, she let Alpha put the muzzle around her head.

Alpha's subordinate walked over to her. He patted her back. "Good girl."

Good girl. Was that what she was? (Yes.) Was she good only for being obedient, or was there something more to it? It would make sense if she were naturally good, naturally better, because she had a high opinion of herself. She had returned to Alpha's service and helped defeat Other Alpha. Didn't that make her good, better than the other members of her pack? If Other Alpha was bad, then she was good? Of course, there were other considerations to make in interpreting Alpha's subordinate's words of praise. Was his idea of what was good the same as Alpha's? Was Blue's?

While Alpha's subordinate kept her occupied with pats and praises, Alpha returned to the human pack. He came back with more restraints. Blue didn't like it, but she let him sheath her claws and chain her limbs together. She was subordinate to Alpha.

She was a good girl. She wasn't alone.


	4. New and Old Blood

Owen’s InGen Security transport helicopter touched down on a grassy hill in one of the rare open areas in the Torteguero National Park. It could have carried ten soldiers in full combat armor, but just to be on the safe side, Owen had restricted it to only him, Barry, and Blue. The two humans sat on either side of Blue, there to reassure her with pats and murmured words of comfort. From nose to tail, she was securely locked with steel restraints to the floor of the helicopter. Owen and Barry agreed that this was the best way to transport her without placing her under heavy sedation, and they wanted her at full functioning capacity as soon as they set down in the jungle.

Blue handled the strange experience fairly well. She watched her handlers alertly but showed no sign of distress. She didn’t fight the confinement or seem bothered by the sound of the rotors.

Owen wasn’t about to face a pack of raptors without the most capable teammates available. Not many made it out of the Jurassic World catastrophe alive, but two very adept colleagues managed the task. Berenger “Barry” Dutertre was a highly capable velociraptor wrangler who worked alongside Owen in taking care of his pack. He was everything Owen could want in a human partner. And, of course, Blue was a highly capable velociraptor. When you wanted to ingratiate yourself with a bunch of unfamiliar raptors known to have killed at least six people, who better to smooth things over than a loyal raptor?

There was always the possibility that Blue’s loyalty would, as it had on Jurassic World, meet its end. The dominant raptor of this foreign pack could steal Blue away from Owen as had the Indominus rex. If that happened, well, Owen would do what he had to. He’d try to win Blue over. If that failed, he’d take responsibility for taking a raptor off Isla Nublar and shoot her before she hurt anyone. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

As the helicopter powered down, he and Barry got to work. They unlocked Blue from the floor and removed enough restraints so she could stand. They kept her muzzle and claw sheaths on and secured a hobble chain to keep her from moving faster than humans could reasonably handle. She growled her disapproval.

Owen’s heart went out to her, but he knew the restraints were for the best. Wiesner’s special forces operatives hadn’t met her under the best of circumstances, with her mouth and claws bloody, and though he was glad they didn’t view her as a tame dino pet, they were apt to incur injury the other direction by antagonizing her into conflict. They were skilled soldiers but trained only for dealing with humans, not animals, and certainly not raptors. They knew enough to respect her for her strength, but when it came to practical interaction with Jurassic World animals, they were as green as any new recruit in basic training. That was why Owen made sure that he’d be able to bring in people of his choosing to assist him in leading Wiesner’s hired goons.

“She’s a beautiful animal,” Dr. Sarah Harding called out as she hurried over to meet with them. She kept a respectful distance away from Blue but didn’t display the fearfulness of the soldiers and maintained calm, easygoing energy to keep Blue from getting too excited. With experience in dealing with both Jurassic Park raptors from Site B and large predators on the African savannah, Sarah had been Owen’s second choice after Barry.

“She is,” Barry agreed. He laughed and patted Blue’s head. “Our Blue is an empress among raptors.”

Blue turned her eye to study this new addition to the group. Sarah let Blue examine her without changing her position or behavior. The raptor tilted her head up, bobbing in birdlike acceptance of this newcomer.

“That’s it, Blue,” Owen said. “Sarah’s a new handler.” He pointed at her and repeated her name to get Blue familiar with it.

“How much do you think she understands?” Sarah questioned, tilting sideways to examine Blue back.

“She understands more than you would ever think,” Barry opined. “Raptors are the smartest dinosaurs ever brought back to our world.”

“Yeah, they’re real Einsteins with a knack for disemboweling people,” Owen said. “They’re about as smart as chimpanzees. They can know maybe… twenty words. When you make an effort to build a relationship with them like we were doing in Jurassic World, they can learn to understand what you mean even if they don’t understand every word.”

“Like the conversation we’re having now?” Barry said. “She understands that we are reassuring her and you as we introduce the two of you. Humans have levels of social protocol to distract us from the ultimate meaning of our interactions. Blue may not understand exactly what we’re saying, but she understands the _point_.”

“Can I touch her?” Sarah asked.

“If she lets you,” Owen said. He trusted Sarah had the training of animal psychology to know how to read Blue’s basic body language and know when to back off.

Watching Blue closely, Sarah crept closer. Blue watched back and let her approach. Sarah reached out a hand and touched Blue along her scaly neck. Blue let this go on for a few seconds and then pulled back. Sarah immediately dropped her hand and took a few steps back.

“She’s amazing,” she said. She kept her face carefully controlled, not grinning in order to make sure Blue didn’t think she was baring her teeth aggressively, but the corners of her mouth pulled up, and Owen could see a grin in her eyes. It reminded him of when he first got to know his pack.

Barry gave him a knowing look. He saw it too. “She’s a little angel. With teeth!”

“Your little angel’s scaring the menfolk,” Sarah observed. Indeed, the special forces soldiers were gathered alertly at the base of the hill, clutching their weapons and staring at Blue. None of them were watching the perimeter.

“What are they doing?” Owen sighed. He turned to Barry. “Take Blue and Sarah to the holding pen and get them settled. I’ll take care of these idiots.”

He trotted down the hill to the group of soldiers. “Hey, fellas, my order to not drop your guard around her didn’t mean you should watch her to make sure she doesn’t sprout wings and breathe fire. Barry and me have this handled. You should watch for other raptors. You know, the ones that won’t be chained up?”

“I concur,” Dr. Alan Grant said, stepping out from behind one of the many active construction projects there at the camp. He removed his dusty white fedora and wiped sweat from a brow darkened by years of labor under bright sun. Replacing the hat, he nodded in acknowledgement of Owen. “They’ll undoubtedly be aware of us before we’re aware of them. We should be ready to deal with them when they choose to make themselves known.”

Alan was Owen’s third choice. The two men shared a tense relationship. Alan was, of course, the one expert not affiliated with InGen who was most familiar with raptor behavior, directly interacting with them on both Isla Nublar and Isla Sorna. Even before observing living dinosaurs, he accurately predicted many of their behavior patterns. Before the Jurassic Park catastrophe, raptors were a favorite of his, and he’d written about them lovingly in his first book. His second book presented them as the spawn of Satan, but he was still an expert.

He and Owen met several times and talked over drinks as fellow raptor experts when Owen still worked at Jurassic World, and they maintained an ongoing correspondence. It was his profound pessimism and standoffishness that made Owen reluctant to take him on. Every time Alan looked at Owen, there was a layer of smug condemnation for Owen taking part in a business that would breed raptors. Nowadays, after finding out what Hammond did, Owen felt like he deserved part of that.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but it’s hard to see the value in taking one of those wild monsters into our base camp,” said one of the soldiers. He spoke in a polite, cultured tone, his accent characteristic of the Southern United States. With his boyish face and tanned white skin, Owen couldn’t help but mentally compare him to the figure of Tom Sawyer. “You know how many people those things have killed. Good people with families of their own. The only reason _that one_ survived Jay-Dub is because it was more cutthroat than anything around it, and you want to take this lethal predator into our midst?”

“That is not your decision, Private Citizen Donaldson. Owen Grady is the program manager of this mission, and you would do well to respect that.” It was Dr. Lionel Barnett who spoke, a skinny bespectacled man acting as adjunct to Wiesner, there to observe the operation on his behalf. He was also an archeologist familiar with the, uh, artifact. Not that you needed a PHD to spot a shiny black statue shaped like a, uh, cone of water. No, Owen knew he was just Wiesner’s lackey. As long as he stayed out of Owen’s way, though, Owen was fine to let him observe.

“Thank you, doctor, but I’ve got this.” Owen smiled courteously and turned to the unruly soldier. “Donaldson. Dr. Barnett is absolutely correct. This is my op. I don’t know how things usually go on in these fake military outfits, but when I run a mission, it goes down like it does in the U.S. Navy. That means you DO NOT MOUTH OFF TO YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Sir! Yes, Sir!” Donaldson snapped off a salute. His casual demeanor vanished, and he displayed the appropriate stiff tension of a military subordinate.

Owen let his anger fade. “Now, you just let me do the thinking, Private… Citizen. I know more about raptors than anyone here, including our friend Dr. Grant. If you can’t trust Blue, then trust me. I’ve got everything under control. Now, go watch the perimeter, and do not fire without my express authorization! And don’t let me catch you badmouthing my dinosaurs again.”

Dr. Barnett applauded as the soldiers ran to their posts. “Excellent leadership skills, Mr. Grady. I’m sure we’ll get this matter in hand in no time at all.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Owen ignored him as he walked over to join Alan.

The paleontologist studied the buildings being erected. Owen watched the construction as well. Most of them were going to be pens intended to contain raptors, which would have to happen eventually to protect the public, but they had a long way to go before they were at that stage. They still needed to locate the raptor nest and assess the pack before they could even think about moving them.

Owen looked out over the jungle. It was a dense concentration of moist trees and bushes similar to the topography of Isla Nublar, which he knew had been carefully designed to evoke the jungle environments that people associated with the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods. The Tortuguero jungle was a natural environment that was the spitting image of the background of a dinosaur illustration. It made perfect sense that a group of free raptors would come here.

He looked at the trees, trying to see if he could spot anything looking back at him. He knew their presence wouldn’t go unnoticed by the indigenous wildlife. Even if raptors wouldn’t notice them directly, the apex predators would be alerted by the changing behavior of their prey. Raptors were curious creatures, and Owen knew they would investigate sooner or later. He just hoped they would give enough of a window for Owen and Blue to make contact before the game of cat and mouse began.

“No fences,” Alan stated in a grunt.

“No point,” he replied. “It would have to be extreme to keep raptors out, and I don’t want this to be Tortuguero Jurassic Park. I want to make it nice and open. That way, our welcome won’t be a taunt.”

Alan sighed. “You want to pretend you’re one of them? Talk to them? I’ve been down that road.”

“I know,” he said. “According to the report of your Isla Sorna raptor encounter, you spoke to an alpha female and successfully negotiated with her.”

Alan waved his hand dismissively. “I made some raptor sounds and successfully confused her long enough for the military rescue to arrive and scare her away. I make no claim of actual communication.”

“Nonetheless, you got out of a confrontation through trying to talk to them.” He waved in the general direction of Blue. “You were talking gibberish, but Blue can say things that mean stuff. She can understand her place in the pack, and she can tell them that. With Blue, we can actually talk to raptors.”

Alan offered him a smug smile, full of contempt. “Well, I hope your plan works. I really do. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Jurassic Park, it’s that we are never in control.”


End file.
